


The Darkest Shades Of Dreams

by frecklesandwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, M/M, Season 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:36:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesandwings/pseuds/frecklesandwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being swallowed by the Darkness isn't as terrifying as Dean thought it would be. Or maybe he's wrong. </p>
<p>(A speculative work on how Season 11 should begin.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkest Shades Of Dreams

“Dean, wake up.”  
  
Although the voice sounds familiar to Dean’s ears he can’t quite place it. When he finally opens his eyes, he has to admit Claire is not exactly the first person he expected to see.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re still in bed! If you’re not down in ten minutes, I’m taking baby myself!”  
  
And with that she’s gone, out of the room.  
Dean glances at the surroundings: it’s a comfy, bright room with a queen bed and a messy wardrobe full of clothes he doesn’t remember having ever bought. Or stolen. Whatever. On the floor next to him there’s a black worn shirt. Probably his, considering he’s currently topless.  
  
“What the hell-” He mutters.  
The memory of him and Sam being swallowed by the Darkness is vivid in his mind - less vivid is the part where he ended up comatose in a bed. Is he at Jody’s? Why else would Claire be there? But she said something about the car. No, there’s no plausible universe in which he’d let Claire drive the Impala.  
He climbs down the bed and exits the room in his boxers, determined to find out what’s going on.  
  
“You’re up early!” Sam points out, bumping into him.  
  
“What are you doing?” Dean asks, because Sam is not only way to cheerful but he also looks like he came straight out of The Chew with his glasses, newspaper in one hand and a freaking green apple in the other.  
  
“Breakfast?” Sam answers, raising his eyebrows unconvinced. “Are you okay, Dean?”  
  
“Me? Are you okay? What the hell happened? Where are we?”  
  
“Home?” Sam is looking more concerned by the second.  
  
“This place sure as hell ain’t the bunker.” Dean protests, staring suspiciously at the wood floor and at the painting of tulips hanging from the wall.  
  
“Dean, we left the bunker years ago.”  
  
“No, no. This isn’t real...” Dean grips Sam’s arm. “The Darkness. I think it stuck us into this... Hallucination, or whatever.”  
  
“The Darkness? What’s that, a high school emo band? You know Dean, even for you 9am is a bit early to be drunk.”  
  
“I’m not drunk, Sam! This is like the Djinn crap all over again!”  
  
“Dean!” A husky, far too well-known voice interrupts them. “Did you tell Claire she could take the car?”  
Dean almost has an heart-attack when he turns and Cas is standing in the corridor with super messy bed hair, some scruff on his cheeks and only a damn flannel shirt on. And slips, thank God.  
  
“Me? Car? Claire? What?” He realises his voice has risen of at least three decibel, which causes Sam to chuckle, although Cas doesn’t drop the threatening glare.  
  
“You said you’d take her to the rehearsal. We never agreed she’d drive herself there.”  
  
“And she shouldn’t!” Dean nods emphatically, trying his very best to look anywhere else that isn’t Cas half-naked body.  
  
“Then go stop her, ‘cause she won’t listen to me.”  
Glad that he’s being offered a easy way out, he spots the stairs and leaves the weird, uncomfortable versions of Sam and Cas behind him. Who even allowed Cas to wear flannel in the first place? The dude looks like a freaking Abercrombie model. Shit, he’s not a horny teenager. He’s got more important things to worry about that Cas with his shirt open.  
  
“Claire! Drop the keys.” He warns her as he walks on her fumbling with the pockets of his jacket.  
  
“Fine.” She retorts, clearly annoyed. “But if we don’t leave now, I’m going to be late.”  
  
“Let’s go then.”  
He knows it’s stupid - he doesn’t even have a clue on _where_ they’re supposed to be going, but he figures some fresh air is what he needs right now. Besides, changing the setting might weaken the hallucination.  
  
“Are you going to put some pants on or...?”  
_Crap_.  
  
“Of course I am.” He makes a face because Jesus Christ, even fake Claire is a pain in the ass. “Are there some laying around?”  
He definitely hopes so, as the last thing he wants is to - God forbid - bump into AberCas on his way to the bedroom.  
  
“I think so.” She ponders. “Cas left some clean laundry in the kitchen.”  
Oh, so Cas does laundry as well.  
What’s next, they’re running a B &B and baking pie together while tickling each other?  
He ignores how that image actually warms his stomach.  
He finds said laundry and puts on the first wearable clothes he finds - although the Star Wars shirt is definitely a present, because there’s no way Dean would ever buy one, no matter how much he likes it.  
He’s about to get the keys when he hears a loud thump coming from the next room.  
“Claire?!” He shouts, while his eyes wander hopelessly for a gun. Wishful thinking.  
  
When he gets into the room, however, he doubts it’d make a difference - Claire is on the floor, her back turned to Dean, but there’s blood literally everywhere. He starts shaking. He doesn’t remember being so terrified. A figure is standing over Claire’s body and Dean feels like throwing up when he realises what he’s witnessing. He sees himself smiling as he sinks the first Blade deeper into Claire.  
  
“What happened -” Cas appears besides Dean, at the door.  
His other self’s head snaps back up, eyes flashing black.  
  
“What did you do?” Cas screams, rushing over to Claire. Dean, the real Dean. wants to speak, move, do something, but he’s completely paralysed.  
His demon doppleganger, on the other hand, is far too quick in grabbing Cas by the collar and shoving him against the wall. The view brings back awful memories.  
And then, mercilessly, Demon Dean shoves the blade into Cas as well.  
Dean is forced to watch as life drains out of him - what hurts him most is not seeing fear or disgust or anger on Cas’s face, just shock, as if he’d died wondering why.  
Sam finally arrives as well, horror deforming his features as his eyes take in the massacre Dean has caused.  
  
“But how-”  
Needless to say, Demon Dean doesn’t let him the time to finish. Dean gulps as Sam raises his arms in defence, but the blow comes anyway. More blood spatters on the floor.  
  
“Who are you?” Dean manages to stutter, his voice cracked.  
His alter ego smiles, walking over Sam’s lifeless body to get into his face.  
  
“I’m the one who knows what’s in there, Dean Winchester.” He says, pressing the blade into his chest just enough to hurt him. “Every forbidden dream, every nightmare, in all their darkest shades. I can give you everything you want. I can take it all away.”  
  
Suddenly, inexplicably, the room starts taking fire. Dean is overwhelmed by the smoke but as he coughs and cries he can still spots the bodies of his loved ones rapidly rotting until there’s nothing left but dust.  
  
“I’m what was here before time. I’m what will be left once time is nothing again.”  
In a last struggle, Dean manages to get hold of the blade and stabs the creature, who smirks as he dissolves into black smoke.  
  
“I’m the end.”

______

  
Dean gasps as he wakes up in the Impala.    
They’re still outside the barn, stuck in the puddle, but the black smoke outside is gone.  
  
“Sam!” He screams, turning towards the passenger seat.  
But Sam’s eyes are shut, his features tense. It looks like he’s having a seizure.  
  
“Sam, listen to me! Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real!” Dean keeps screaming, uselessly shaking his brother. “It’s the Darkness, Sam! Wake up!”  
  
 


End file.
